You Can Still Live
by PetchricorXConstellation
Summary: Grif dies by a bunch of rocks. He sits in his mind palace waiting for death to come and cover him like a veil. But as his imaginary world melts away he is visited by a friend of sorts. The Alpha AI. After showing him that the others need him, Grif decides he can still live. He can live for them, and kill that Director bastard! *Friendship for Grif and Sarge*


**This is just a little sad drabble I came up with, and I thought it was interesting so I put it up. This story isn't very long, but it sweet. And also very sad. So, for you easy criers I suggest some tissues. Anyway, enjoy.**

* * *

Grif stood up and looked around him as the world started falling apart. Hadn't he just been running from pieces of a crumbling cliff? Why was he suddenly in a melting city? He thought a moment, though all of his thoughts were so fuzzy and wibbly-wobbly that it was hard to concentrate. He remembered seeing a small rock heading towards him, he tried to move but he wasn't face enough as it, and many others, made contact with his body. Grif gasped. He was dying! And there was nothing he could do about it, all he could do was wait. Grif sighed and sat criss-cross on a small platform that didn't seem to change. He watched as his mental images of people ran and screamed in fear, as the buildings melted and the streets broke in half, and watched as it all fell apart.

"Hey," came a voice from behind him. Grif looked over his shoulder. Who would be talking to him? All his mental images were to busy running and screaming at the moment, so it couldn't be one of them. As he turned a bit more he saw Church standing behind him. Most likely just a thought his subconscious was sending him, but he decided to welcome the company. If he could talk to anybody before dying, he would like to have a conversation with someone that could hold a good one. He nodded his head, beckoning him to come over, and looked forward again. Church walked over and sat next to him, leaning on his palms as he watched the sight of death with him. "So, you're just gonna sit here, huh?" Grif looked over at him, a bit confused.

"What's that supposed to mean? It's not like I can do anything but wait, is there? I mean, come on. Death doesn't like to be cheated," Grif said jokingly. Church chuckled a bit and turned to look at him. Grif narrowed his eyes at him for a moment, thinking. He blinked. "You're not an image are you? You... wait. The Alpha AI? But, you were destroyed." Church chuckled again and sat criss-cross along with him, the sight of death not important anymore.

"I thought so too, but nope. I'm still here. But I'm not here to talk about that, I'm here to tell you that you don't have to die. And that you shouldn't. They need you Grif," Church told him. Grif burst out laughing at this and shook his head. Church tilted his head a little, questioning him. Grif looked over and gave an amused smile. "What's so funny?"

"The fact that you think they need me. HA! They could care less. You've heard Sarge and Simmons talk about me, they hate me, you know that as well as I do. They could care less if I was dead or alive. Hell, they laughed when Tex was using me as her personal punching bag," Grif told him with fake laughs. The laughs were him trying to convince himself that he didn't care what they thought, but it was a lie. He was hurt that they didn't care he was laying here, dying. Watching an entire world melt. He pulled his knees up and rested his arms on them with sad sigh. "They don't care, they never cared. I'm dying here, and they don't give a damn." Church chuckled a bit.

"Allow me to prove you wrong," he said. Grif looked over as Church brought up something. "I just to use your COM-link here for a moment, aaaand-there." Grif looked down at the small hologram coming out of his wrist and when he didn't hear anything was confused. What was it he wanted him to hear? He listened closer and he could hear a noise, like someone pushing on something. As he kept listening he could hear that it was someone pushing on his chest, CPR perhaps?

"Come on Grif, come on!" he heard Simmons yell as the noise continued. "Don't die on me buddy, come on!" There was silence as he heard someone jog over towards them. There was a long silence as Simmons continued CPR, but without success. But the pushing explained the weird fluxes in color in Grif's mind world. He felt someone nudge his arm a bit and a grumbling noise.

"Get up you lazyass! What did I tell you about sleeping on the job?" Grif grumbled to himself as Sarge's voice. So what if Simmons was trying to save him, that didn't matter. Simmons tried to save everybody, that was just Simmons. The pushing noise stopped. "Come on numbnuts, get up!" Grif raised his right eyebrow ever so slightly. Was his voice cracking? He heard someone stand up, probably Simmons and he sighed. "Get up..."

"I'm sorry Sir, but he's not coming back," came Simmons's broken voice. He heard his friend walk away slowly, defeated. There was silence and Grif's shoulders sunk a bit. He was about to ask Church what point there was to showing him this when he heard movement, coming closer though. He narrowed his eyes, what was going on?

"You were the laziest man I ever met, and the mission is better off without ya," came Sarge's rough voice. Grif winced. That wasn't something he wanted to hear. He heard Sarge stand up. Grif wanted Church to shut it off, he didn't want to hear what else Sarge had to say! But his voice didn't come as he heard... a sob? Was Sarge, crying? Over him? "But, I'm not. Who am I going to blow steam off at now? Crack jokes at and smack around when I need to? Now that I think about it, perhaps I did it to much. But I'm gonna miss ya, we're all gonna miss ya." As the small speech ended he heard fading footsteps. Church shut it off and stood up. Grif looked up at him.

"You can live, Grif. You can stand up and fight back. You don't have to leave them just yet, and I can help you. But the question is, do you want me too?" Silence fell over the too, Grif looking at the wrist the hologram had come out of. Sarge was going to miss him. He narrowed his eyes. But you can't miss what isn't gone. Grif stood up and nodded. "Right than. The best I can do is give you a shock, waken your brain and senses. But you're going to have to do the rest." Grif nodded again.

"Right, now let's do this," Grif said. "Before I changed my mind." Church laughed a bit at that last comment and the image of him disappeared. Grif took an imaginary breath, this was going to hurt. GODDAMN! As a shock shot through him the world suddenly became bright and colors came back, air filled Grif's lungs and he heard the pounding of his heart. There was a bright light and he covered his face in surprise. He ran towards it as it started to shut. He grabbed its edges and tried to pull it apart, but wasn't having to much success. He started to wonder if this was pointless.

"Grif?" came Sarge's voice. Grif's eyes widened and he pushed harder. He wasn't giving up, not now! He let out a battle cry and shoved it opened. There was a burst of light and Grif took in another deep breath. Then he found himself coughing roughly and spit up some blood that was in his mouth. "Grif!" He looked up, trying to see his commanding officer. He felt himself being lifted to his feet and someone wrapped their arm around his shoulders. "You are one tough cookie. Wash, get Doc! Come on soldier, lets get you fixed up." Grif couldn't help but smile a bit. He looked up at the sun a moment and thanked Church for his help, if it hadn't been for him he'd be dead right now.

"Set him down here," Doc said. Grif felt something against his back as he was sat down. He winced as a sharp pain shot through his leg. What the hell was that? He leaned his head back and let out a long breath. He closed his eyes a bit. "No, bad, bad!" Grif winced as someone smacked him a bit. He growled. What the hell? "Don't do that Grif, you may go unconscious and this time you may not come back." Grif growled.

"I'll make you go unconscious and never come back," he grumbled. Someone patted him on the shoulder and Sarge laughed. Grif looked over. By the way he felt he guessed that he most likely looked drunk, but at the moment he didn't care.

"There's the Grif I know," he said and walked away. Grif smiled a bit and leaned his head back, but kept his eyes open. He had done this for him, completely for him. And if not for him, because of him. Grif chuckled a bit. _Thanks Church, if not for you, I'd be in hell right now. And I bet that even hell can be worse than this. _There was a ping in his leg and he grunted in pain. He started to stand up but a hand pushed him back.

"Whoa there, just hold still for the Doc. And hang on, all right? We're gonna fix you up." Grif looked over and smiled at Simmons and grabbed him by the arm. He nodded in response to the question he had been asked.

"All right," he said. Simmons smiled back at him and sat down about six inches to his left. Grif leaned his head back again and stared up at the sun for a moment, thinking. He looked around, searching for Sarge. He coughed a bit before speaking. "Hey, Sarge *cough*." Grif coughed for more times and he heard Sarge walking over to him.

"Yeah, what is it numbnuts?" Grif smiled a bit. At least things hadn't changed to much. He looked over to where he had heard the voice come from.

"I heard you back there," he said. He heard Sarge shift in a funny way and he chuckled a bit, leaning his head back. "A friend was able to use my COM-link to listen in on your guys. I know you tried CPR Simmons, and I know you failed. I heard you give up on me, and I heard your silly little speech Sarge." Sarge shifted again and Simmons cleared his throat nervously. "And that's the only reason I came back." The shifting stopped at this and Grif's smile came back. "I came back because you wanted me too. You need me, whether you'll ever admit it again I don't care. But knowing that you do care, and want me to hang around. That's what brought me back."

"Friend? What, friend?" Wash asked. Grif's smile turned into a knowing smirk and he looked over at him.

"Oh, no one special. Just Church. Back from the dead. Again," he told them. He heard a funny noise and Washington grunted, then everyone laughed. As they all made comments about him falling over Grif started thinking. Why was everything so fuzzy and dark? He swallowed nervously. "Um, Doc? Wh-why can't I see?" The laughing slowly stopped and Grif guessed everyone was looking at him. "Um, Doc?" A hand rested on his left shoulder and Sarge cleared his throat.

"Son, I'm sorry. But a piece of rubble cut through both your eyes. I don't think you'll be able to see again. You can tell light, but you can't see." Grif looked down and felt some blood move with gravity down his forehead, between his eyes, down his nose, and it dropped off to the ground. He mumbled something along the lines of an 'oh' and swallowed a bunch of spit that seemed to have suddenly appeared. The Doc. stood up and said something about his leg being fine and walking about. Grif growled a bit and stood up. Sarge backed away and Grif grabbed the pistol on his hip.

"One of you moroons point me in the right direction, and I'll shoot that director bastard in the face," he said. Sarge laughed a bit and clasped his hand on his shoulder again, giving a friendly shake.

"That's what I'm talking about, persistence!" Sarge commented. Grif smirked. This was going to be interesting. Not fun maybe, but interesting.

* * *

**Well, there you have it. I hope you have enjoyed this feels fanfic. And yes, I know it's extremely OOC. Sorry if you don't like that kind of stuff.**

**Thanks for reading and please review!  
**


End file.
